


Because I Can

by Twisted_Mind



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild slash, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1597889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has an . . . interesting talent. One night, the Gryffindor boys get a demonstration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because I Can

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted June 30th 2012 at HP Fandom. Edited upon re-posting here. 
> 
> So, yes. I am a sick puppy, and if you have an issue with depravity, use the back button, because flaming is not tolerated. Betaed by GhostxWriter. 
> 
> Seriously? If the below ever happened in the Potterverse, the whole thing would implode. (Unless, y'know, it does.) Ergo, nothing below belongs to me. (Except the idea, of course.)

“Harry,” Ron sighed, rubbing his eyes, “For the very _last_ time, that isn’t possible.”  
  
Harry’s boyfriend, Dean, sniggered, as Harry calmly replied, “Yes, it is.”  
  
The other boys in the Gryffindor dorm watched the best friends fight, unworried. These two had had this argument before.   
  
“Look, I can understand that you’re a great shag, Harry, but what you’re saying is mental. No bloke can do … _that,_ ” Ron said stubbornly.   
  
“To be fair, it’s only since I got the knack of my Animagus form that I’ve been able to do it,” Harry argued.   
  
“Look, you’re my best mate, but you’re spewing utter shite,” Ron muttered mulishly, crossing his arms over his torso.   
  
Harry sighed before turning to Dean. “Are you gonna be pissed if . . .?” he trailed off meaningfully.   
  
Dean grinned. “Are you kidding me? I love watching you do that. As long as you don’t mind _them_ seeing,” he gestured to the others, “then I don’t mind either. Just so long as they understand that this is one-time-only, _and_ that I better not catch them ogling you afterwards.” His tone morphed from playful to subtly menacing.   
  
Harry nodded, before his expression turned coy. “You wanna help me out a little?”  
  
Dean’s answer came in the form of an easy grin. Neville, Seamus, and Ron settled on the redhead’s bed to watch as the dark-skinned teen advanced on his boyfriend. Harry smiled, his eyes glittering, as Dean pressed him against one of the posts of the canopied bed, his taller, broader body lining up to fit against Harry’s own. Harry looked up at his lover, arms wrapping around Dean. When Harry dragged blunt nails across his cloth-covered back, Dean fisted his hand in the wild black hair and kissed Harry.   
  
The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet or teasing or soft. It was all fighting for dominance with thrusting tongues and split lips from fierce bites. It was a battle, neither one giving in. Hands grabbed and clutched until it was impossible to tell where one body ended and the other began, clad as they still were in their uniform trousers and shirts. The turning point was when Dean wormed a hand between them, cupping Harry’s clothed erection and squeezing firmly. Harry moaned, and went limp within his boyfriend’s grasp. Dean lowered him onto the bed, covering the smaller body with his own.  
  
Smiling like the cat that got the canary, Dean moved his mouth to suck a line of hickeys along the pale expanse of Harry’s throat, his right hand never ceasing its maddening rhythm of squeeze-and-release at Harry’s groin. Meanwhile, his other hand was freeing Harry’s buttons from their holes. Their audience was watching raptly.   
  
“Cripes, Dean’s talented,” Seamus muttered.   
  
“How d’you figure?” Neville asked, his eyes never straying from the spectacle of the two in front of him.   
  
“Well, he’s turned Harry into goo, for starters,” Ron interjected. The other two ripped their gaze away from the boy in question to stare at Ron. “Harry’s always so tightly wound I figured that if he ever let go, he’d probably blow up half the country,” Ron said defensively. Neville and Seamus nodded--everyone in the dorm knew what Harry’s temper was like--before turning back to watch the show.   
  
By now, Dean had divested Harry of his shirt, and was working on his trousers--all whilst keeping his mouth busy, licking and sucking at Harry’s nipples, biting at his collarbone, and returning to The Chosen One’s mouth for more of those savage kisses. Harry was writhing under the dark-skinned youth, straining against the body pinning him down and moaning his pleasure. Then, with a smirk befitting of a Slytherin, Dean pulled back suddenly, taking Harry’s trousers and boxers with him and leaving Harry sprawled naked on his bed.   
  
“There you are, sexy. Enough incentive for you?” Dean asked, his voice deep and smoky. Harry threw him a half-hearted glare.   
  
“Bloody cock-tease,” Harry muttered mutinously, before fishing for his wand amid his pile of discarded clothes, his bare arse in the air. When he popped back up, the other boys--even _Ron--_ were all looking a little glassy-eyed. Harry snickered a little before lying back down on the bed. He spread his legs wide, his cock thick and pink and standing to attention, before pointing his wand at the bedposts and murmuring a spell.   
  
Dean chuckled at the looks of surprise on the faces of the others as a network of ropes appeared over Harry’s head, descending to wrap around his ankles and pull his legs straight up in the air, still spread apart. A second set of ropes descended, hovering over his stomach. They watched, eyes widening, as Harry reached up, grabbed the ropes, and--winding them around his wrists--pulled his upper body upright, somehow managing to fold himself in half.   
  
And promptly started mouthing the head of his cock.   
  
“’M pretty sure we’re not supposed to be that flexible,” Seamus whispered reverently, staring at the way Harry’s tongue flicked over his slit.   
  
“Benefits of being an Animagus are starting to convince me,” Neville mumbled, mostly to himself.   
  
Harry swallowed down a bit more of his cock, and moaned in pleasure. Feeling his throat vibrate around his cock caused him to groan, setting a cascade of sensation in motion. As Harry hurtled closer to orgasm, the others leaned forward to take in every detail: the way his legs tightened and his toes curled, the way the muscles of his arms and shoulders bunched and trembled with the strain of keeping himself suspended, the way his sweat-slicked back shone, the stifled cries of pleasure-pain as his body danced along the edge. Finally, with a muffled shriek, they watched his dick twitch and jerk in orgasm as Harry fought to swallow when his own come flooded his mouth.   
  
After riding out his shattering climax, Harry loosed his grip on the ropes, his upper half flopping bonelessly onto the bed. His chest, slick and shining, rose and fell with his gasps, and his eyes fluttered closed in his flushed face. Dean moved then, vanishing the bindings with a flick of his wand, and muttering healing charms over Harry’s rope-burned wrists, before pulling the duvet up to his boyfriend’s waist. His self-appointed task complete, Dean sat cross-legged on the bed beside Harry, grinning at his dorm-mates.   
  
When Harry turned hazy eyes at them, he said only five words: “I told you I could.” Ron nodded dumbly, the heel of his hand pressed against his own raging erection.   
  
Seamus--whose own trousers were sporting a rather damp patch--asked, in the hushed tones of those overwhelmed with awe, “But, what gave you the idea? And why’d you want to do it again?”   
  
Harry laughed softly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Because I can. Why else?” He got up then, and sauntering--still nude--to the bathroom, called over his shoulder, “Coming Dean?”   
  
“Not yet!” Came the reply. Then, he turned to the others. “Now, I understand that he’s a hot bloke, but you're not invited watch in the showers, you pervy buggers!” Dean laughed at their gobsmacked (and thoroughly disappointed) expressions before joining his boyfriend in the shower. He had his own little problem to take care of, after the show Harry had just put on.   
  
  
  
  



End file.
